


Puppy Love is for Suckers

by Cassiebobassie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mating, Mating Bites, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Stalker Castiel, True Mates, modern pack with regency traditions, traditional pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-04-23 13:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14333301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiebobassie/pseuds/Cassiebobassie
Summary: The alpha Castiel has been watching the omega Dean Winchester in secret since they started high school..even before then. They’ve grown up in the same town but in different packs. Even though Castiel is from a wealthy and powerful pack, Dean wants nothing to do with him. He wants his brother and to be raised in his mother’s pack. His mom was an alpha and he wants to find a love like he remembers his parents having. His dad insists their marriage was pretty damn bumpy and that Dean just can’t remember. So John agrees to an arranged mating, but Dean's going to refuse. Well, probably... Maybe...Arranged Mating, Phantom Scent, Sex Ed class, Nesting, Werewolves . . . All part of the tale of True Mates.





	1. Guess Who's Coming for Dinner?

 “Don’t be a bitch about this, Dean.” his father growled. 

Dean’s hands curled into fists, but he bowed his head and managed to mumble, “Yes, sir” while gritting his teeth. Rounding his shoulders and keeping his eyes lowered, Dean tried his best to seem meek. John Winchester had definite ideas about the roles of Alphas and Omegas—and these ideas had been biting Dean in the ass since puberty. No reason to be surprised now, right? Being pissed wasn’t going to help. Sure, he wanted to scream and yell and punch the wall--or maybe take a swing at his dad. But John Winchester didn’t need _more_ proof that Omegas were too emotional to make their own damn choices. Its just—Dean never thought, never considered that his dad was traditional enough to believe arranged matings were a good idea. 

Apparently, Dean’s supposed to be grateful that some weird alpha has had the hots for him since Dean started high school  . . . before then… 

Nobody’s being specific about the exact length of time this alpha knot-head’s thought Dean belonged to him.  “For years,” his dad said. So, who knows how long. Bottom line: Dean’s had a freakin stalker.

Castiel Shurley.

The heir apparent to one of the most traditional packs. The youngest alpha-son in a huge litter  of alpha-sons who fought fang and claw to be top dog. They fought so hard to be pack Alpha, they nearly killed each other, literally. Two of them ended up in prison. One disappeared. Another's presumed dead. There's only one alpha left. It’s been all over the news for years. How this perfect pack—which Dean’s pretty sure just means loaded and full of traditional shit—honored the old codes and battled for leadership. Which Dean finds fucking hilarious, since it's the quiet one that claimed it all. Yeah, Castiel’s quiet. That’s pretty much all Dean knows about the guy. Dean has only the most vague memories of the dude standing in corners—messy hair, tense shoulders, trench coat. The trench coat shoulda been a warning. That damn beige nightmare basically screams stalker, but Dean just hadn’t noticed him.  Cause, sure, they grew up in the same city, went to the same schools, but they were raised in different packs. Dean was a Campbell-Winchester and he knew he wasn't good enough to mingle with Castiel Shurley. Even if he wanted to. And he didn't want to. No matter what Sammy says. 

And screw how cool his dad thinks it’ll be to join the Winchesters and the Shurleys. Dean doesn’t hold a grudge against the Campbells, the way his dad does. Dean is happy to be a Winchester who belongs to the Campbell pack. This omega wants nothing to do with the Shurleys. But who cares about what an omega wants, right? Who cares that Dean wants his brother to always be his family? Who cares that he wants to always live in his mother’s pack? And—if he ever finds an alpha he’ll let near his pretty ass— _this_ pack is where he wants to raise his kids. His mom was a damn-good alpha, and he wants to find a love like he remembers his parents having. Alright, he never says that mushy shit out loud, but he has good memories of life with Sammy and of his parents’ marriage from when he was a pup. Dad insists their marriage was pretty damn bumpy, and that Dean just can’t remember. Or at least that’s what he’s saying now. Now that he’s agreed to a damn arranged mating. 

Dean’s nearly 18. He could say no. He could. But he won’t. Well, he probably won’t. He tries to be the omega-son his dad expects him to be. And now he’s gotta spend the evening pretending he doesn’t hate the idea of being the arranged mate of his high school shadow.

“Damn it, Dean. Stop daydreaming! The Shurleys will be here in less than three hours. You need to clean yourself up and get dinner prepared.”

“You want me to cook for them? You’ve got to be fuck—freakin’ kidding me.”

“Watch your mouth, Dean. They expect a traditional Omega, and you’re gonna be one. At least for a night. What’s the big deal? You cook dinner every night.”

“Yeah, for you and Sammy. Not for . . . These guys eat caviar and shit, dad! What am I—”

“Dean, I mean it. Stop using words like that. Take a shower and clean your damn mouth out while you’re at it.”

“Dad,” Dean said, trying to sound calm. “What am I supposed to make for the Shurleys? You want me to make ‘em happy, right? You tell me how last night’s beef stroganoff might do that, and I’ll go put on my apron right now.”

“They don’t need a chef, Dean. They probably have a kitchen staff. They need an Omega. Just prepare something, smile, and keep your head bowed and your mouthing off to a minimum.”

“But—”

“I told your mom and Alpha Campbell that our kids would do well, that we didn’t need his pack’s charity. And now look, the Shurleys want an alliance. With us.” John Winchester’s smiling. His eyes might as well have those anime stars. He looks thrilled, happier than Dean’s seen him—at least since his mom died. Dean’s sighs.  Turning, he heads up stairs to shower and pick out a nice shirt. This is gonna be a long night.


	2. High-Class Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner at the Winchesters

Three hours later and Dean’s fighting the urge to laugh. His Dad’s got out the fine china and the long candlesticks. Probably had to blow dust of that stuff and dig it out of some closet. Dean didn’t even know they had those in the house. Their table’s set for the damn Queen of England and instead... there’s a twitchy teenager in a stalker coat, his even more twitchy father, and an overdressed platter of cheeseburgers.

Cheeseburgers and fries. Dean has to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

It’s crazy to give a dinner like _this_ a place of honor. Dean’s burgers are good. Fuck that, they’re amazing. But they’re burgers. Who serves ground-chuck to the Shurleys?

Dean makes as much sense in this Shurley-mating scheme as the cheeseburgers do.

And if Dean wasn’t worried that the alpha standing across from him wanted to get his hands on Dean’s ass, this would be hilarious. Hell, even with the silent stalker, Dean has to make sure his head stays down because everytime he looks up and sees candlelight flickering over burgers and pre-made fries (Dean didn’t even have time to make hand-cut tonight), he can’t keep a straight face. Chuck, Castiel, Dean’s dad--they all probably think he’s being the perfect submissive omega. Dean’s just trying to keep from laughing. Thank God no one can smell it on him.

Dean has blockers on, even though he never has ‘em on at home. He always gets comfy. Stinks up the place if he feels like it. If alphas can walk around making the room stink of every emotion they’ve got, Dean figures he can, too. Sure, most omegas wear blockers in public and the school dress code requires it. And a lot of omegas from high-class families have great scent control, but Dean’s never learned to hide _anything_. Just another reason he makes no sense as The Shurley Omega. As much as he wants to please his dad and keep him smiling—and maybe not drunk most nights—he knows it’s better if everybody realizes an arranged mating is a bad idea. And maybe they’re figuring that out today. Especially this alpha that has wanted Dean “for years” and now can’t look directly at him. Dean can’t help but huff a laugh. He tries to cover it up as a cough.

 _Didn’t bargain on cheeseburgers and button-up flannels, did ya?_ he thinks.

“Shall we have a seat?” his dad asks, trying to move things along.

All Dean can think is _shall we? Shall we?_ When did his dad start talking like that?

Dean glances up through his eyelashes.

He watches Chuck pull out his chair and settle in, and then Castiel follows his lead, almost mirroring his movements.

Once he’s in his chair, Chuck looks at the meal, surveying the whole table from end to end as though a grand buffet has been laid out. Clearly, a bagged salad and day-old pie are worth a good long look. Castiel’s eyes though stay focused. He doesn’t glance at the food or even at Dean. His eyes stay fixed forward, and his movements are strict, almost like he’s spent the past four years in the military and not at their local high school. If Dean thought he was really going to end up as The Shurley omega-to-be after this stupid dinner, he’d be pretty panicked.

“Hamburgers?” Chuck asks.

Dean waits for his dad to chime in. When the silence gets too long, Chuck repeats, “You made hamburgers, Omega?”

“I only had a few minutes to make dinner tonight. I—”

“This looks great,” Chuck interrupts. “Castiel loves hamburgers. Right, Castiel?”

Dean risks an open look up from his empty plate, and what he sees really makes him nervous. Chuck is grinning widely at John and at Dean. But Castiel stays stoic, still staring at the wall. _How traditional_ is _this guy?_

“Yes, sir.” Castiel answers.

“Omega, did you know about Castiel’s favorite food…” Chuck says, seeming to wait for Dean’s reply.

Dean is afraid his dad will be mad, but he shakes his head _no_. He’s in over his head. There’s no way he’s lying to score potential-mate points.

“It’s ok that you didn’t know. Serendipity is pretty cool, too.” Chuck volunteers.

 _Cool_ . Is Dean having a walking hallucination? Chuck Shurley says shit like _cool_. Where’s all the fancy words and the high class shit? Where's all the outrage that he served them freakin' burgers?

Chuck smiles and rubs Castiel's shoulder. Apparently he’s come to a decision. “Son, you have my permission to court him.”

“Yes, sir,” Castiel answers with a whisper, like he can hardly believe his luck.

Castiel finally looks at Dean. They continue to stare at each other. The corner of Castiel’s lips turn up, and a smile grows on his face until it’s a full-blown grin. His gums are showing and his eyes are shining and he looks like he just had all his birthdays rolled into one. Dean puts his head back down.

_Fuck._

“Should we dig in?” Chuck asks, sounding thrilled.

Dean glances up to see his dad smile and push the platter of burgers closer to Castiel.

“Dig in,” he says.

Castiel grabs a burger, blindly, his eyes never leaving Dean. _Double Fuck._

Dean takes a few deep breaths. He’ll find a way to get out of this. He will. But first he’s gotta get through this dinner.

Omegas eat last in traditional households, so Dean just sits there and listens to the sounds of all the alphas making their burgers. He put out all the toppings he could think of. Mayo, Miracle Whip, couple of kinds of mustards, ketchup, pickles, jalapenos, even salad-y shit like different types of lettuce and onions, and a sliced tomato. He hears a moan that almost makes his overactive dick wake-up. God, he hates the week after his bi-annual heats because he’s _supposed_ to be back to normal, but he’s always hornier than usual. One time a fucking breeze gave him a boner. He does _not_ need this right now. That deep voice moans again and Dean looks up to see Castiel grinning with his chipmunk cheeks filled up with burger. He’s still staring at Dean.

“These make me very happy, Omega.” Castiel says with what passes for a smile with all that food in his mouth.

Dean drops his eyes.

 _Great_. Dean nods. Now that the courting alpha has initiated conversation Dean’s gotta be social. “Thank you,” he mumbles, hoping that’ll be enough.

“It’s great that you like his cooking, Castiel. It’s rare to see you enjoy a meal so much. John--May I call you John?”

“Sure, Mr. Shurley.”

“John, my son is often too serious. It makes me happy to see him relax and enjoy a meal.”

“Right. Sure.” Dad replies.

“I would like my son to take a mate as soon as possible.”

_What? No no no no no. This was a mating interview, right? Nothing was already decided. Why was this conversation going from zero to sixty in a few sentences?_

“John, after dinner tonight, can we bring the omega back to our pack?”

_Holy Fuck._


	3. Zero to Sixty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Dean survive this dinner? (Damn all cheeseburgers and people named Castiel for being kinda irresistible!)

“Oh! No!” Chucks says, leaning forward in his seat and waving his hands. “No.” Chuck’s eyes flit between the shocked expressions on Dean and John’s faces. “My apologies.”

_ Yeah, jerk. Crazy control freaks  _ should _ apologize. _ Dean watches his dad open and close his mouth, unbelieving.  _ Damn, Chuck's moving so fast even dad feels overwhelmed.  _ Dean glances at Cas. The alpha’s eyes are lowered; his jaw is clenched. Dean can’t figure out if Castiel’s angry or embarrassed or what. Dean looks back to John, hoping his dad has stopped being the Arranged-Mating Cheerleader and has finally started to see this evening for the clusterfuck it is.

“I don’t mean that the omega will come to our pack for an immediate mating. No. No,” Chuck says, rubbing a hand through his hair, showing a rare bit of nervousness. “We  _ are  _ hopeful for a fast pairing, but that is too quick, even for us.” Chuck leans back and folds his hands in his lap. A calm smile comes over his features. Chuck is suddenly 100-percent-in-control-Pack-Alpha again. “You have heard of denning, yes?” Chuck finishes.

“Um, yeah, that’s--that’s” his dad nods, and stutters, trying to agree.

Chuck picks up the half-formed sentence. “It’s the tradition of adopting potential mates for a month to test out compatibility. To share our den with the heir’s potential mate.”

_ Denning? They’ve got to be kidding, right? There’s traditional and then there’s fucking ancient. Who still does that shit? Denning was standard a century ago. _

“It might seem fast, John. But Castiel bears heavy burdens. He is shouldering a change in Pack leadership, with the duties of school, and with beginning to take on our Pack’s large responsibilities as heir. To see my son like this…” Chuck pauses dramatically and takes another bite of his burger. He chews shaking his head. When he finally swallows, he says, “To see Castiel smile... To see him eat... Castiel’s often too busy to do more than nibble what our staff serves.”

“I told you they’d have kitchen staff, Dean.” his dad throws out there, seeming to miss the fact that Dean’s intended father-in-law spoke about his other sons’ deaths as a change of leadership. Hell, it put them in a list with his school work, as though losing sons in a pack war was on par with Castiel’s fucking Calculus homework. 

“If a single meal with your son has this effect on Castiel, John, I am very hopeful for a successful and swift mating.”

“Yeah, yeah.” John says, nodding frantically.

Dean's dad’s so happy that they want Dean’s sad omega-ass, he doesn’t even seem to know notice that  _ Mister  _ Shurley hasn’t given them permission to calm him Chuck. This is a freak show, but John can’t see it. Yet.

Castiel and Chuck start making eyes at each other. They look like they’re able to read each other’s minds. Rumor is that the Shurley pack is still able to connect to their wolf forms. Could be they’re strategizing with some supreme Were mind-reading shit. They have military minds. You don't become one of the strongest packs in America if you can't play a deep game. Dean's just a kid, and he has no idea how to make this right. But he has to break the silence. He’s got to say something, do something. He has to stop this before it starts. Dean's mouth opens and closes, but words refuse to come out. He doesn’t want to piss of his dad, and he’s not sure what he could say that wouldn’t get him booted out of the house right this minute. If he wasn't afraid his dad would never let him see Sammy again, he would flip this table over and tell those alphas to leave him alone.

Shit, Dean can’t believe it, but he wishes Sammy were here. He feels pathetic wishing for the support of his little pipsqueak of a brother, but in a house full of alphas who clearly don’t give a shit about omegas, it would help to have one alpha on his side. Sammy wouldn't flip over the table, but he'd be bitching everybody out. They wouldn't listen to him. He's a young kid, just thirteen, but at least Dean wouldn't feel he was in an alternate universe where he's the only sane person. 

“Sir," Castiel says, breaking the silence.

"Yes, Castiel?" Chuck asks.

"De--the omega still has not eaten. Father, Mr. Winchester, might we discuss denning after he has done so?”

“You’re right, of course, Castiel. I’m happy to see you’re already taking care of your intended omega.”

“Right. Yeah, that's a good sign that Castiel’s gonna be a decent alpha even though he’s young, right Dean?"

Dean refuses to nod.

"Go on, Dean. Eat up, son.”

Dean’s not hungry now, but he starts to make his own meal. Might as well eat while he tries to think.

Dean takes a bite, and Chuck puts his own food down. Castiel stops eating his burger, too, but unlike Chuck who is watching Dean's dad squirm, Castiel is staring harder than ever at Dean. He seems almost apologetic, but Dean doesn't give a shit. He just wants to clean up this dinner mess and go to bed. Cuz there's no way his dad is gonna send him with the Shurley's tomorrow. No way. Even if his dad is pro-Shurley, he knows they're crazy now. Right?

So Dean's gonna thank god tomorrow is Saturday. He can sleep in and try to pretend this night never happened. At least the burgers are good. Dean’s a culinary genius. 

If the Shurley’s want some extra kitchen staff, he’ll take the job, but Shurley Omega? Why can’t they see he doesn’t fit in? He wants to stay with Sammy, in his mom’s old pack. He doesn’t want a fucking traditional mate that calls his own dad sir and calls Dean  _ The Omega _ . 

Dean wants to tell them to fuck off right now, and show them just how untraditional he is. But Dean knows his dad, and he can’t chance never getting to see Sammy again. 

Dean settles for taking another huge, sloppy bite out of his hamburger. He’s sure he doesn’t look like a dainty, proper omega. The barbeque sauce on his chin seals the deal. Castiel watches him take each bite. He chews loudly and the whole table stays silent except for the sounds of an unruly omega enjoying a meal. Unfortunately, eating like a hungry alpha has the downside of Dean finishing his dinner too fast.

As soon as Dean eats the last fry on his plate, Chuck picks up the conversation, “Our family handles mating in the old ways. We have always denned with potential mates. I trust you have no objections over the tradition, John."

Dean's dad shakes his head.

"Does your hesitation for the omega to den with us mean you’re worried over an alliance with our Pack?”

“No, Mr. Shurley. The reputation of your Pack is--well, you’re--” John stutters, gesturing wide and smiling.

Dean rolls his eyes. His dad’s on cloud nine again, thinking of an alliance with the Shurley pack. He's probably imagining rubbing this in Campbell’s face.

“Are you concerned that I am moving this along too quickly then?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy about this, and I know Dean is a damn fine omega, but ya’ll are pretty traditional.”

“You’re afraid your omega will be unhappy with us--unhappy with a traditional pack?”

“Naw, Dean’ll get along just fine once he-- I just--Well, I don’t want him to seem--You might--”

Dean shakes his head. Unbelievable. He knew his dad wasn’t happy when he presented as an omega, but this… Dean's stomach turns. Somehow his dad always manages to surprise him. “I think my dad is worried you’ll want a refund,” Dean mumbles, head down. “You know, further down the line.”

“A refund?” Chuck mutters, confused.”For what?”

“For me. For being--,” Dean stops, unsure how to apologize for being himself when he thinks he’s pretty damn awesome. “A month-long test-drive” Dean shrugs, when his voice wobbles. “Might not be a good idea, you know. I mean,” Dean coughs to clear his throat. He’s not gonna get all damn weepy over his dad’s bullshit. “I cook a mean burger, Mr. Shurley, but I’m not really a perfect omega. I--”

“Dean, we talked about this!” John snaps, cutting him off. "Dinner's done, son. Let's start the clean up."

Dean stands and grabs up all the dirty plates near him.  _ Pathetic. After years of his dad telling him he's just an omega, he still feels hurt when his dad doesn't seem to give a shit. Why can't Dean learn? _

“Mr. Shurley, I think denning is a good idea, but my son needs some time to get used to the idea.”

Chuck and Castiel start that staring thing again. Dean always thought it was a myth that the strongest Weres could communicate without words, but the way they continue to look at each other makes him almost believe. Somehow, they are talking. But it's out of Dean's hands now. All he can do--for now--is clean up the damn table. Dean walks around the table putting lids on condiments and staking up rolled up paper towels.

Finally, Chuck nods at his son. Castiel stands and walks over to Dean, “Omega,” he says, bowing his head at Dean.

Dean nods his head right back and Castiel steps closer. He pulls the dirty dishes from Dean's hands and carries them into the nearby kitchen. Dean goes back to the table to gather the rest of the mess.  _ Guess we won't be having pie tonight,  _ Dean thinks grabbing the untouched dish. 

Dean heads into the kitchen and watches Cas as he takes a few moments to scan the room. Dean thought the douche was judging his kitchen, but then he watches Castiel put trash and dishes and condiments all in their proper places, as though he's been in this kitchen before.  _ Did it only take the alpha seconds to figure out the system it took Dean years to perfect _ ?

Dean and Cas work together without words and finish straightening up the kitchen and the dining room. When they return to their fathers, things have taken another turn to the extreme.

“Castiel,” Chuck says with a wide grin, “ John has given permission for you to scent the omega."

Cas nods his head as he makes eye contact with Chuck, but he doesn't move.

Chuck goes on, "John, you worry over the omega's compatibility. So we shall ensure it now before we resume talks of denning? Does that satisfy you?”

“Uh. Sure.” John drawls.

"And if they  _ are _ compatible, we begin denning tonight?"

"Alright." John agrees slowly, drawing out the word and nodding his head slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still aiming to post at least 1,000 words a week until I finish all my WIPS. Let me know ya you think!


	4. Who IS this guy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scenting and scintillating mysteries as Castiel's behavior gets more perplexing and John gets more . . . well, John.

Castiel leans in closer. They are standing side-by-side, and Dean wants to play it cool, but when Castiel is a few inches away from Dean's neck, Dean backs away. He can't help it.

Scenting is a big fucking deal, and this guy's just gonna go for it?

Castiel's eyes widen as he takes in Dean's retreat. He's almost close enough to Dean's scent gland, but he stops. He doesn't take a deep breath. He doesn't shift the smallest bit. The alpha is inches away from being close enough to scent Dean, but he waits. Castiel whispers, “May I scent you, Dean?” instead of taking what John offered.

Dean really can't believe his damn dad. Or these traditional fuckers. Scenting your mate in front of family is so old-school. And it's--it's intimate. _Nobody_ scents in public. And definitely not in front of their parents. Even better, Dean's wearing blockers. How pissed was dad gonna be now? Dean never reapplies blockers after he showers or when he gets home. Shit, he hopes his dad's not gonna think he wore blockers on purpose to spite him.

“Dean, come on, bare your neck,” John growls.

“But dad--”

“ _Now_ , Dean.”

Dean moves closer to Castiel and leans his head to the right, exposing his neck and his scent glands.

The softest growl rumbles in Castiel’s chest. Castiel must like what he sees cuz he keeps on growling until it’s almost a purr.

Dean hates that his body responds and produces slick. Not a lot. Not enough that every alpha in the room will smell it. But Castiel will, standing this close.

Dean knows the moment Castiel smells his arousal. The alpha’s eyes glow red, and Dean _really_ fucking hates the week after his heat. His heat happens twice a year and it had to coincide with this? Dean sighs. He’s a horny teenage omega. So he’s not always in control of exactly how his dick and his ass behave, but he has better control than _this_. What is this guy doing to him?

“May I scent you, Dean?” Castiel whispers again, still holding back.

Dean nods his head, knowing he can't get out of this anyway.

Castiel leans in to scent him.

_Good luck, asshole_ , Dean thinks.

When Castiel smells nothing, he leans back and gently palms Dean’s neck. “Thank you, Omega,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear. Cas rubs at the blockers applied to Dean’s pulse points. From the outside, Castiel probably looks like he’s petting Dean, not like he’s annoyed or disappointed by Dean’s choice to cover his smell.

Dean glances at his dad who’s smiling at Castiel’s reaction. At least Castiel didn’t alert his freaking dad. Dean did not wanna hear _that_ lecture tonight. Especially when Dean can tell that Castiel has worn blockers, too. Talk about unfair.

Dean would give anything to scent Castiel right now. He just needs a hint about what this guy is thinking and feeling. Now that he’s up close, he’s not calling him omega. And the guy looks and sounds happy. But why? He barely knows Dean.

Castiel continues to pet Dean, running a hand through his hair, returning to rub at the blockers on his neck until he’s satisfied. All along, he purrs and his eyes are alpha red. When the blockers are rubbed away, Castiel pulls Dean in again, their bodies flush. "Thank you, Dean," he whispers into Dean's ear.

Dean shudders.

Castiel takes another deep breath, finally scenting Dean. Castiel's purring grows stronger. There's no way their dads don't hear it. Castiel runs his nose along Dean's neck and Dean starts to feel how into this Castiel is when the dude's dick starts poking Dean in the hip.

"Pardon me." Castiel mumbles pulling his hips away from Dean. Barely a second passes before he asks, “Will you come home with me, Dean? If you’re not ready tonight, could you come tomorrow? That will give you time to talk to Samuel.”

“Sammy?” Dean mumbles, shocked that somehow Castiel knows that Dean would need time with his brother.

“Yes," Castiel whispers with a nod that fluffs his soft hair along Dean's temple. "We would not keep you from your brother, Dean. During the month of denning, Samuel can visit as often as he likes. He could come to you at anytime. If--if you decide to mate me, Dean, that would remain true." Castiel sighs and his breath is warm along Dean's neck. "Please, will you come to my home, Dean?”

“I don’t know--I”

“Break it up. Break it up, boys.” John laughs, walking around the table to get to them. “You’re not denning yet.”

Castiel takes a large step back, and returns to to his soldier stance, pulling his coast forward to cover his hips. "Mr. Winchester, I am pleased by my intended Omega.” The kindness and concern Dean heard in Castiel’s voice moments before are gone. “Thank you for permitting a scenting."

"Sure, Castiel. Sure." John says tapping Castiel on the back. When Castiel doesn't respond, John huffs an awkward laugh and adds, "Allowing the scenting's no problem.”

Castiel and Chuck are back to staring at each other.

John mumbles, sounding worried, “Trust me, my son is flattered. He's just shy."

_Shy my ass,_ Dean thinks, wondering when the stare twins, Chuck and Cas, are gonna finally decide what happens next.

"John, Castiel, perhaps we should bring this dinner to an end," Chuck finally asks with a small nod at Castiel.

"What?" John says, worried.

"Endings are hard. I know."

"Dean's just got cold feet.” John says quickly. “That's to be expected."

"Nothing ends completely, John. We can return to this discussion again... sometime..." Chuck looks at Castiel, "Sometime in the future."

"Dean, go get your things, son. No need to take all this proper omega business too far." John chuckles, but his face is hard. John’s voice is cold with command when he prompts, "Go on, son."

Dean panics. The scent of his worry surrounds him, and he's sure that Castiel can smell it.

"Mr. Winchester, the omega does not need to begin denning tonight."  Castiel places his hand on Dean’s arm. He doesn’t grip him or grab hold, but the weight is there and Dean stops.

"Sir," Castiel says, looking at Chuck, "Mr. Winchester, it is unusual to have talks of denning when a family alpha is missing, is it not?"

"You mean my son, Sammy?" John asks with a confused grimace. "He's a pup."

"All the same, John," Chuck says haltingly, as though he's stumbling over words in a script he doesn't recognize. "All the Alphas should be here to agree before denning can begin."

"Uh..." John rubs his hand over his mouth, clearly stressed. "Sammy, well, Sammy won't be here for a few days."

"Perhaps we can agree to dine together again when Sam returns, and then begin the month at a later date," Chuck says.

"I know my boys. Sam and Dean will both agree this is best for Dean." John glares at Dean. "Go on, Dean, get your things."

"Mr. Winchester, you and the omega could contact Samual by phone this evening." Cas stoically adds, "If the omega begins denning tomorrow evening, then the omega's brother can spend the first few nights with him, to help him adjust."

“I think that’s a fine idea, Castiel. What do you think of that, John?”

Dean doesn’t want his dad to say yes to denning, but he’s starting to think that he might have a better chance of convincing Castiel that they won’t suit than convincing John-stubborn-as-hell-Winchester. Once Dean convinces Castiel and Chuck, they can convince Dean’s dad. Hell, they are about to get his dad to agree to visits from Sammy, and that _never_ happens.

As soon as Dean presented, he wasn’t a Winchester because omegas are _always_ adopted by their mate’s pack. Omegas are just guests in their own childhood family homes. When they mate, they’ll belong completely to their Alpha. They’ll take on their alphas names, and their alpha’s parents will become theirs. Only alphas are born belonging to a Pack. Dean can’t even count the number of times his dad has been disappointed in Dean and said shit like _Dammit, Dean. You’re just not a Winchester_ or _A real Winchester would never do something like that_. Omegas always leave. Alphas stay with their sires. Always.

It’s possible that Sammy’s visits will come back to bite the Shurley’s in the ass. If the Campbell Pack Alpha thinks they’re poaching Sammy, there might be hell to pay. But Castiel and Chuck seemed willing to take the risk. For Dean. To make him comfortable?

Dean’s not sure why, and he’s definitely not lining up to be the trench-coated weirdo’s omega… but, somehow, Dean feels less afraid of the Shurleys. He doesn’t trust ‘em, and they’re still traditional assholes, but they might be able to convince John that Dean should stay an unmated Winchester omega.

"Tomorrow sounds good, after we call Sammy," Dean mumbles. "Denning, I mean."

"What?" John asks.

"Sammy can come by whenever.” Dean says quietly. “He doesn't have to stay. He can just come over for dinner a couple times. You'll want me to cook dinner while I'm denning, right?” Dean asks, looking at Castiel.

"Yes, Omega." Castiel says with a nod.

"Yeah, Sammy can come around then. Few times a week." Dean finishes with a shrug. It's more than he hoped for, really.

Chuck grins. "We look forward to more of your hamburgers. We have kitchen staff, omega, but for denning it is important that you prepare meals for your Alpha and your future family."

"Omegas nurture," Castiel says, nodding, his face a mix of joy and worry... At least that's how Dean reads the weirdo's face. But Dean can't be sure he understands anything about this alpha.

When did his life take such a flying leap into crazy town?


	5. Rolling out the Red Carpet (and trying not to trip)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel prepares the den for Dean, and Dean tries to prepare himself.

The next morning, Dean woke up, made a cup of coffee, reapplied his blockers, threw on a Henley and some jeans, and started tossing stuff into his duffle. He couldn't be pissed right now. Even if he never wanted to see Castiel again. Even if he wanted to punch his dad for not even letting him talk to Sammy last night. Dean knew that if he kept his head on straight and grit his teeth, he could get through this. He could get through fucking anything.

Dean nodded his head, agreeing with himself. He took another sip of coffee and walked over to his dresser to start throwing underwear and socks toward the duffle on his bed. Dean barely looked at what he tossed in. He wasn’t taking a trip, and this sure as hell wasn’t a damn vacation. “Denning,” Dean muttered with a sigh. Blowing out a harsh breath he got back to business.

No need to take more than the bare minimum, he thought. No way was he gonna be at Casa de Weirdos too long. But if he went with an empty duffel his dad would be pissed, especially after he gave Dean his leather jacket with a pat on the back and a “Happy Nesting, Dean.” So step-one: finish packing.

Dean walked down to the hallway to the bathroom he shared with Sammy and slapped on the light. He grabbed up all the blockers he had and, since nobody was around to know, he pulled up one of Sammy’s balled up shirts off the floor. He stalked back down the hall and tried not to think about how bad he would miss Sammy. Worrying about it wouldn’t solve a damn thing, and he definitely didn’t want any omega-flick-moments. Not now. Not until this was over.

Dean pushed Sammy’s shirt to the bottom of his duffle and dropped his blockers inside, scanning his room. He grabbed a book, his headphones, his phone charger. When he pulled the edges of his duffle closed, he paused. About a fourth of his bag was taken up with blockers. Would the Shurleys let him wear them while he denned?

Rubbing his hands through his hair, Dean sighed again. There was no telling. Dean had two more hours before school started… and less than a day before he would be a Shurley omega.

Dean debated using these last two hours to catch up on dad and Sammy’s laundry or make them a few meals and leave them in the freezer. _Hell with it_ , he thought. If Dean’s dad wanted him to join another pack, maybe he should let his dad try to run the Winchester household without Dean doing all the laundry, doing all the cooking, paying the bills on time, and keeping Sammy out of trouble.

Dean had other things to worry about today.

First, on his list was packing. With that done, he moved to the second worry on his list: how Castiel Shurley would treat him in school. Dean was terrified that Castiel would make a public claim. Dean hadn’t been to school since before his heat started, and he always hated the odd days of re-entry when he returned from heat leave. He hated playing catch up after missing school for two weeks and feeling out of sync with everything. Now, he had to go back to school with this hanging over his head. He was also nervous that word had gotten out about the Shurley’s interest in him… and then… if Castiel ignored him, that would be a freak show, too.

 _Fuck it_ , Dean thought. He smiled and zipped up his duffle and left it on the bed beside his bookbag. He was going downstairs to make himself a pie for breakfast. He would watch one or two of the new episodes of The Great British Omega Bake-Off on Netflix. Most importantly, Dean would leave all these questions and potential strategies behind him. He shrugged and managed a smirk. If a man didn’t know enough about what was coming to even pack a small duffle bag, he had to let go and ride the train to wherever it was taking him. At least until he could figure out how to jump the hell off. There was no way to prepare for becoming the Shurley omega.

 

Across town, Castiel Shurley was trying to preparing for the Shurley omega.

Dean was coming. A few hours from now, Dean would call Castiel’s home _his_ home. At least for the next month. Castiel was desperate to have everything ready. He had to prepare the omega wing, the rooms where Dean would stay, and the staff. Castiel had stayed up the evening before memorizing the multitude of things to prepare today. First on the list was to explain to the staff what behavior he would and would not tolerate during their interactions with Dean. Although school would begin in two hours, Castiel needed to ensure that Dean would be comfortable here and thus all his staff was lined up and ready to respect Dean as a pack leader--whether they liked it or not.

Castiel cleared his throat and fought a tendency to look toward his father for approval. He would be the acting Pack Alpha and he needed to always appear to stand on his own.

“Mr. Singer, you will retrieve the omega, Dean Winchester-Shurley, from school this afternoon.” Castiel knew that John Winchester should call this morning to assign guardianship rights to Castiel, but he had no faith in this man. Castiel added a call to Mr. Winchester to verify that the man remembered his duty to his list of tasks before continuing. “Mr. Singer, I ask that you arrive early, before the bell dismisses students. Have the omega paged to the front office, escort him to the car and be sure that he is safe from all alphas during transport. The only alphas he may speak with are Samuell Winchester and Charlie Bradbury.”

“Yes, Alpha, “ Bobby muttured, jotting down the names in his notebook.

“After retrieving him, take him to the Winchester household if he needs to gather his things. Assist him as needed and then bring him here.”

“Metatron, give the omega a detailed tour of the Pack Den. Keep pack history to a minimum. Your goal is to be sure that the omega knows where to go to receive assistance and that he feels comfortable finding his way around the Den. He must know how to reach myself and my father. When you introduce him to his rooms, be sure that everything is arranged and prepared to his satisfaction. If there are any changes he wishes to make, see to them immediately. Do not hesitate. Do not speak to me.”

When Metatron said nothing, Castiel prompted, “Do you understand my directions.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Repeat them, Metatron, so that I can be assured that you understand.”

“When the omega arrives I will give him a tour of the Dean and teach him where to find help from the Pack Alphas.”

“And?” Castiel prompted.

“And his word is your word. If he wishes changes to his space, I am to make them immediately.”

“Correct.”

He heard a gasp to his side. He nearly smiled. He'd been waiting for this moment. When Castiel identified the problem he approached with a snarl, “You have something to add Naomi.”

“Alpha, I have been the omega nurse for the past two pack Alphas, this is not how we do things.”

“We?” Castiel growled.

“Yes, alpha, The Shurley pack follows the old ways.”

“I am Pack Alpha. The Pack follows me.”

Naomi never lifted her eyes. Maintaining her submission, the beta finally bowed.

"My omega will be an extension of me. To show him any disrespect, to hesitate when he gives an order is tantamount to refusing the word of your pack Alpha. If you think my omega does not speak as I would wish it, then you imply that I do not control my mate or any members of my Pack. I will answer such a challenge in the old ways."

A shiver ran down the line of staff members. They knew such a challenge meant death.

The loyalties of the pack staff would be tested soon, and before Castiel knew who could be trusted, he had no hope in telling them to treat his omega as an equal. For now, Catiel had to rule with fear. For now...

Without another word, Castiel turned and headed toward the omega wing. He heard the sound of his pack following behind. Or at least the small number of pack members that were still housed in the traditional Shurley den. They clattered up the stairs, and Castiel sighed at the silence in the now empty omega-wing. Much had changed in recent months, and changes would continue. Dean would help. As long as Castiel could win his trust.

That trust would be hard won, but Castiel knew that trust would be impossible if Dean’s every thought was bent toward leaving the Shurley den. Somehow, Castiel had to find a way to make his den feel like home. Castiel swung open the door to Dean’s room, and stopped, his mouth dropping open. The bed was lined with gold silks and the chairs were antiques. There were no books. No television. Dean would not rest in this place.

“Pen,” he demanded, “And paper.” Bobby dropped the items in his outstretched hand. Castiel started scribbling as fast as he could, names of music he knew Dean liked, his favorite books. He wrote cotton sheets and memory foam mattress in block letters. He added TV as well as CD player and Record player, knowing Dean enjoyed both.

Castiel had skulked in Dean’s shadows for years, never approaching, trying to make sure Dean was happy and safe. If Dean had to be tangled with the Shurley pack, Castiel was determined that he would find some comfort here. This den would be prepared for Dean. They had 10 hours left, and they would spend all of them working. “Noami, prepare this room with these things for the omega. Metatron, prepare the sitting room with duplicates of the items on the bottom half of Naomi’s list. Buy a--a game station, too.”

“A playstation, Alpha?”

“Yes, that.”

“Ellen, come with me, we are going grocery shopping. The omega will cook when he arrives, and we must be prepared.”

“The kitchen is fully stocked, Alpha.”

“With what proteins?” Cas asked, knowing the likely answers.

“With the normal favorites, alpha: venison, salmon, crab, mutton, foie gras, lobster--”

Cutting her off, Castiel said, “I’ll see you in the car in 5 minutes.”

They had a lot to do and little time to do it.


	6. Denning Sucks and Shurleys are Weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean thinks denning is stupid and wonders if the Shurleys can get any weirder

“No, Sammy. I’m tellin’ you, man. This place is a freak show.”

“Yeah, full of weirdo alphas that give you your own cell phone before you walk in the door. Sounds like a real hell hole.”

“Whatever, dude.” Dean says with a shrug. He can’t exactly argue. It’s a few minutes after midnight and Dean’s been in the Shurley residence for several hours. It’s been a weird day. Tons of new people and a house that doesn’t smell like home.

But he _is_ talking to his brother on his _own_ phone. _That’s_ never happened before. And this is the second time today.

Dean survived his first day back at school after his heat, and Castiel was nowhere in sight. Didn’t even come to school. Bobby, the Shurley’s beta chauffeur, picked Dean up from school and shoved a box into his hands as Dean settled into the back seat of some snooty and annoying Mercedes Benz. Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes. At least until he opened the box wrapped in green ribbon.

He almost couldn’t believe it: a brand new phone, the one all the dick-head alphas at school have been drooling over. This model isn’t out to the public, and yet, there it was with a note on top. Beautiful loopy cursive handwriting that said: _Hello, Dean. Welcome to the Shurley pack. Please use this freely. Some numbers are programmed for you. You may use the phone and its software as you see fit. Games and other offerings are also available through the Application Store. Please ask Ellen if you have any difficulties with the device this afternoon--Castiel._

Dean called Sammy right away and both of them were shocked. Omegas are almost never given personal phones--cuz obviously they’re all so eager for a knot they can’t resist using phones to tempt an alpha. Total bullshit. Dad sometimes doesn’t even let Dean use the family phone to talk to Sammy. In Dean’s new phone… Sammy was in there. Castiel, too, and Charles Shurley. And Charlie Bradbury. And John Winchester. There was even the number for a couple of omega friendly services, a help line, and a number for Shurley Security and Protection. There were also game apps. And pre-loaded music. It was crazy and kind of amazing, but... the rest of the day didn't go so well.

“Sure, Castiel gave me a phone, Sam, but after you and talked this afternoon he also had me shuttled around town and introduced to the pack without even saying hello. I mean, after Bobby helped me get me shit from home, I got dropped off on the Shurley doorstep like a Christmas package. And Castiel and his dad were nowhere in site. I'm telling you, I saw him once today. For thirty minutes max. I thought we were supposed to be denning, but he's basically avoiding me."

"You're missing Castiel already?"

“I’m serious, Sammy. This place is giving me the creeps. I don't know whether I've been cast in a horror movie or some BBC history piece, but either way, I don't wanna be in this show. I mean, Castiel's avoiding me. The place is empty. And the Butler gave me a tour of this den. What kind of den is big enough to tour? This place is huge. The tour lasted almost an hour. Shit, the guy showed me a garden and a sitting room. Who has a fucking sitting room, Sammy?”

Sammy laughs. “They’re rich. They’ve got time to sit. Plus, maybe they think omegas like you need to space to, you now, knit.”

“Knit?” Dean howls. “Who fucking knits?”

“Well, somebody’s gotta make hats, and blankets, and little booties for all the pups.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. You’re a comedian. Actually, now that you mention it, there is an Omega Nanny here, named Naomi. She fucking _hates_ me by the way, but there are no other omegas in the building. I mean, that Metatron prick marched me through the mansion, right, but he--”

“Metatron?”

“Yeah, it’s a fucked up name and he’s a fucked up douche, but will you focus? Dude, I’m trying to tell you--”

“Ok. Ok. Go on.”

“So he’s showing me the ins and outs of this place, but he just points out a wing at the other end of the house, calling it the unmated omega wing, and walks on by. He gestured to it as though it didn’t merit any attention. I mean, I’m gonna be staying there, right? But he just skipped over it. _Then_ the dude took me straight into the heart of the Alpha wing.”

“I see what you mean, Dean, you _are_ in a movie. A Disney movie.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you’re a Disney princess, But it's no wonder you didn't recognize the role that God's written you into. The plot's all twisted up. You're Beauty. Clearly. And now Cogsworth’s marching you straight to the Beast’s chambers instead of telling you to stay away. Truly. It’s frightening.” Sam deadpans.

“Fuck you, bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sammy says with a laugh.

“You’re not listening. This pack is weird. And this den is even weirder. Metatron actually made me _practice_ going from outside the omega wing to both the Pack Alpha’s rooms and going from the front door to both rooms. Why do I need to practice _that_?”

“What do you mean practice?”

“I mean, creepy little nerd walked me back to the omega wing and then said, ‘Please, Omega,” Dean adopted the nasal asshole tone of Metatron and went on. ‘Return us to the pack Alpha’s study and then to his bedroom.’ After I did that, he made me do it again from the front door.” Dean had still been holding his duffle at the time. He’d never been taken to his room or into the mysterious omega wing. Hell, at that point, Dean was scared Cogsworth was gonna ask him to put down his duffle in Castiel’s room. Dean wasn't sure what he would have done if they wanted to take denning _that_ literally. 

“Hmmm. That is kind of weird, Dean.”

“Right? After going back to Castiel’s bedroom four fucking times, the pompous ass winks and says, 'You can find your Alpha here whenever he is needed.'”

“Needed for what?”

“Hell if I know. Anyway, only thing good about this place is the kitchen. It’s _huge_. And full of all kinds of delicious shit. I mean, there are boxes and boxes of twinkies in there and tons of those hostess fruit pies buys dad always bought us at gas stations.”

Sammy laughs. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. The Shurleys stock up on junk like that.”

“Yeah, somebody must like it here cuz the pantry had loads.”

“That’s kinda weird. You think they stocked the kitchen for you?”

“I don’t know. But I mean, _maybe_. I’m supposed to cook a bunch of junk while I’m here.” When Dean arrived in the massive kitchen, the cook Ellen said a quick hello and walked him through the ‘larder.’ She told Dean to put his duffle down in the corner and make himself at home. When she told him he could use as much and whatever he wanted, she said it with a smile. Ellen was sweet and a bit rough around the edges, and Dean was glad she was the one in charge of the kitchen.

“You’re cooking there, like a servant or something?”

“Naw, I mean, they have a cook--name’s Ellen. But during denning I’m making Castiel’s meals. I’m hoping dinner’s enough. No way I wanna pack that dude’s lunch every day. Anway, Ellen was mostly nice even though she wasn’t happy with the amount of ketchup I used in my recipe. Tonight was a meatloaf, and she kept scowling at me every time I squeezed another blob of ketchup out of the bottle." Dean laughed, remembering. "Castiel ending up loving it. She admitted though, with a wink and a smile, that I had made the recipe right at the end of the night.”

“So you’ve got at least one friend on the staff.”

“Yeah. Could be. Ellen watched me make dinner, and she made small talk. She also made me laugh a few times, even though I still feel freaked out. I didn’t know it was possible but Castiel and Chuck were even _more_ awkward at _this_ dinner than they were last night at our house. I’m telling you, Sammy, the dinner conversation wasn’t more than ten words all together.”

“What? Come on.”

“Seriously, Chuck said, ‘Welcome, Omega.’ I said, something like ‘Yeah, sure.’ And then the Shurleys started eating. Dude, they stuffed their faces with meatloaf and mashed potatoes and pie. I'm actually a little jealous. I didn’t eat much 'cause I was too damn nervous, but Castiel and his dad polished off pretty much everything, even the green beans. Too bad, because now I'm starving." Dean shrugged. "Anyway, after the food was gone, Castiel said, ‘Thank you, Omega,’ and then the alphas stood up. They did some more of that weird staring shit I told you about, and then went their separate ways.”

Sam sighs again and hums, making enough sounds that Dean knows he’s thinking. He starts to hear clicking on the other end of the line.

“Dude, are you playing a game right now while we’re talking?”

“No, Dean, I’m doing some research. Hold on, one sec.”

“Kay,” Dean answers, thinking back on the night. After dinner, Dean helped Ellen clean up the mess, and Metatron finally showed Dean to the “Unmated Omega’s” bedroom. It’s on the west side of the mansion and separated by the main pack rooms on the east. The room is also a floor above both alphas in residence. The mansion seems mostly empty. More like a ghost town than a den. With the exception of staff, Dean’s pretty sure it’s just him and Chuck and Castiel in a _huge_ pack home that could easily house over thirty. Hell, Dean’s hall in the omega wing has been empty so long it’s nearly scentless.

Dean doesn’t get these alphas or why their pack home is almost deserted. And he doesn’t really care. He’s not up for a mystery. He just misses his home _and_ his brother. It helps a little that this room is kind of perfect. Soft cotton sheets in a deep green. Big comfy chairs and stacks of books by authors he likes. Pretty nice tv. It's got a small mini fridge, too, it's just not stocked with anything yet. Dean's stomach grumbles.

“Dean,” Sammy says full of excitement.

“What?”

“About three months ago a bunch of the pack was relocated to homes within the city. Apparently huge sets of moving vans pulled up to the den and moved all kinds of weres out. But the journalists coulnd’t get anybody to talk about why."

"Three months ago, huh? Was that when Lucifer got killed."

"No Lucifer went missing over a year ago. I think you're talking about Micheal's death. But even _that_ happened six months ago."

"Chill, dude. Cut me some slack. I don't watch the news. And before yesterday, I didn't give a shit about the big, bad Shurley pack."

"Okay. Okay. It just _is_ big news for most of us. They have a hand in half the fortune 500 companies in America. They're big news, Dean. What happens to them, can--and does--affect the rest of us."

"All right. All right. I get it. They are BFDs. Jeez. Anyway, what happened three months ago?"

"Nobody knows."

"Oh. Hmm. Guess that's kinda weird." Dean gets up to rummage through his duffle. There's just no way he didn't pack any snacks, right?

"But Dean, you're in a pretty cool position. You're basically all alone in that big house. You should totally go looking for clues.”

“Sam, it’s midnight. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m not interested in being in a Scooby-Doo episode. Let it go.”

“You’re hungry? Perfect. That’ll be a perfect excuse if you get caught. Go sniff some stuff out and get you one of those pies.”

“I’m not walking around this huge place in the dark.”

“You love the cherry ones, Dean.” Sammy pauses, “I’m just saying, they probably got a microwave, too, right?”

Dean’s sighs. He's spent the last few hours sitting on his small twin bed and staring at the wall, taking deep breaths and not freaking out--or at least _trying_ not to freak. At least until he could call Sammy and get his perspective. Dean wants to stay calm and think this through. He’s got to have a reason for getting out of being the Shurley Omega. He’s got nothing yet, and he knows he’ll never be able to sleep tonight anyway, not after what has felt like a day-long job interview for work that He. Does. Not. want.

"All right, Sammy. I just hope this doesn't bite me in the ass." Dean hops off his bed and slowly opens his bedroom door. It creaks open "Talk to you tomorrow, bitch," Dean whispers.

"Good night jerk. Can't wait to hear what you find."

Dean puts his phone in his pocket and shuts the door behind him. He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, shaking his head. Now he’s skulking around and stumbling through darkened hallways trying to understand the Shurleys. Great. Hopefully he can find out what the hell he’s doing here while he's at it.

He moves silently to the end of the hall. When he still doesn’t hear or smell anyone nearby, he stalks down the stairs in just his socks, hoping that the shadows in the quiet Shurley mansion will keep him hidden. He’s put on blockers again after his shower, so he knows that no one can smell him. If he stays in the dark areas of the house, he might be able to figure out these weirdos. And get a pie for his efforts. He’s not too scared of being caught.

What does he have to lose anyway? If they think he’s a nosy meddlesome omega, it might be for the best. I mean, if his dad can’t see him fuck this up, he can tell John they did some freaky shit even and he spent his time with them acting like the perfect omega. And when they politely turn John's offer down, Dean won’t be in trouble, and his dad won’t be too pissed. If that happens tonight because he’s creeping around in the shadows. So be it.


	7. A Bump in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A knock on Castiel's door at midnight

Castiel hisses as he inserts the needle. Even though he’s been taking this prescription for years now, he still can’t get used to the pinpricks and the burning pain when he injects the stuff. Rubbing around the injection sight to speed the medicine on its way and to ease the burn of its passage, he sighs. 

Maybe a few weeks from now, he won’t need this anymore. Well, a few weeks is probably too optimistic. Perhaps he can just imagine that a year from now he won’t have to hide his scent or himself anymore. He won’t have to hide how he feels about Dean. He won’t have to hide at all. He almost smiles at the thought, but that future seems too far away right now. He’s lost a lot of his faith in recent years. He rubs an alcohol swab over his arm and tosses it in the trash bin.

A soft knock at his door and Castiel’s shoving needles and syringes and bottles into his desk drawer. “Coming,” he says, slamming the drawer closed, half worried and half hoping that Dean has come to find him. 

When he cracks open the door, he sees his dad and blows out a relieved breath. “It’s just you.”

“Yeah, who’d you expect it to be, son? It’s midnight.”

“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected where Dean is concerned.” Castiel smiles seeing that his dad is holding two warm mugs. “But I’m happy that you’ve come.” He swings the door open, “And that you’ve brought some tea.” 

“Yep, this is one tradition we’ll keep to, no matter what.” Chuck says, handing Castiel a mug of hot tea and ruffling his hair.

Cas takes his tea and raises an eyebrow, “Can we call it a tradition if we’ve only been doing it a few years now?”

“What do you mean a few years? We’ve been doing this since you were three.”

“And if it never happened between the years that I was 5 and 10?”

Chuck drops his eyes, “I’m sorry I left, Castiel, but I’m back now.” Sighing and meeting Castiel’s eyes, Chuck shrugs, “Traditions have to start somewhere.”

“And shall my era of being Alpha be known as the Tea and Cocoa Times?” I wonder what the country would think about the only traditions I think are worth observing.” Cas finishes with a self-deprecating laugh.

“We’ve got a long way to go before the country knows anything about that, son.”

“I know. I know.” Cas says. He blows on his drink and then takes a sip. “Ah, Chamomile, Thanks, dad. I’ll need this to sleep. I’m pretty wound up.”

“Only the best for my, Bumblebee,” Chuck says, patting Castiel on his head. 

“Dad!” Castiel whines, batting Chuck’s hand away. “Don’t call me Bumblebee. I’m only months away from college, you know.”

“You didn’t mind last night when I called you bumblebee. You sure you’re not just worried that a certain omega will hear.” Chuck says with a laugh.

“Dad, seriously, you’re being ridiculous.” Castiel tosses the books on his bed to the floor to make room for his dad to sit next to him. “What’d you make yourself?” he says nodding his chin toward Chuck’s mug. 

Chuck smiles. “Just some cocoa.” 

Castiel reaches for the cup, but Chuck pulls it away.

“Dad, stop drinking. Please. And don’t lie to me. If you want me to take on the role of Pack Alpha, you can’t keep hiding things from me.”

“It  _ is _ cocoa, Castiel, just with a little extra.”

“Let me be clear. You can’t keep hiding things from me. Even if you think they’re small.” Castiel sets down his tea and pulls his father’s cup from his hands. “You will not drink with Dean in this house.” Castiel says, drawing on his Alpha Voice. “We both need you at your best.” 

“All right. All right, Castiel. I’ll do my best. I know how much Dean means to you.”

“Yes, you know. So does Lucifer.” Castiel says quietly.

“Don’t blame yourself for that.”

“Who else should I blame then? It’s my fault Dean’s being kept in our house against his will.”

“Castiel, Dean isn’t here as a prisoner, he--”

“Dean came only to please his father. He does not wish to be here.”

“He’s here so that we can keep him safe.”

“And that’s why you’re not going to drink.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m not going to drink.” Chuck repeats. “Just try to look at the positives, Castiel. He will be safe here.”

“I know. I know. But we’ve manipulated them into sending Dean here, and he hates it.” 

“You’ve wanted him to get to know you for years, Castiel. This is an opportunity.”

“And who should he get to know? Castiel? Or the Shurley Pack Alpha?”

“How about letting him get to know Bumblebee?” his dad suggests with a clown-like grin.

Castiel laughs. “No, he’s definitely not going to hear you call me bumblebee.” Castiel sighs, feeling hopeless and worried. “I’m not even sure how to act around him. How much of my true nature do I actually show him. How much of the stereotype to perform. I know you feel the same way.” Castiel finishes bitterly, putting down his cup.

“Yes, dinner was a disaster. He’s right at the center of a conflict he knows nothing about.”

“And the whole world is watching.” Castiel complains, thinking of the press that features almost weekly stories on their families. “The whole world is watching, and that Includes Lucifer.”

“We’ve always had to be careful. Every step we take, every word we say is carefully considered. This is nothing new Castiel. And the Pack Alpha must bear this burden.”

“And with my omega at the center of the storm? How do you expect me to remain calm?”

“You’ll do what you must to protect Dean.”

“Yes.” Castiel says, nodding.

“Then you’ll remain calm. Get to know him as Castiel, the pack alpha.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know. Imagine yourself alive a century ago and wooing Winchester. You might be traditional but that’s not because you’re a backwards looking neanderthal. You just want the best for your omega.”

“Dad, I’m not an actor, I--”

“You just want the best for your omega.”

“Yes, I just want the best for Dean.”

“Then you’ll keep him safe. And you’ll keep as much of the truth from him as you can.”

“But--”

“If he is captured and he knows too much, they will make use of him. Let him remain in the dark for as long as you can, Castiel.”

“And if he hates me?”

“Then he hates you. But he’ll be alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might take a step back from this project for a few weeks or so to work on another Work In Progress. Hope you don't mind. Many of you have been very lovely and supportive with your comments. Let me know what you think so far, ok? Should I let this fic grow into something long, mysterious, and angsty?


End file.
